If the day was lost

If the day was lost in looking at figures and places and features of Iceland a trip to and coming up and too expensive it is redeemed by the notion that we could be happy doing it and it could fill a place for retrieval for years were this grand time makes me strong for this it may be useful.

It’s perfectly legible and yet not a grammatical straight line. Often my problem is the crooked approach or the way I see it. I can try to explain but often get those quizzical looks. I feel this might be a sign of incompetence.

If these birds were so noisy. If these trees had blooms. If the lake were blue. If the sun were shining. If there were no planes overhead to make me think of falling. If my phone were charged. If there was someone else in the house to make me feel at home. If the trains were running this morning so that I didn’t have to walk to work. If I heard their roar from the seat at my desk. If the wind were blowing softly. If the last two letters from the car insignia “Impala” were poised in the pot under the fan cactus. If the white roses were just now looking slightly wilted with age and still so appealing. If the gate made a bang after someone came through it. I would know it was time to sit down and pay attention.

Even the sidewalk has a limited life span

Here is the day that I try. I try to write. I try to talk. I try to read. Everything is difficult. Mind wanders and lingers and falters. I am trying to focus on impermance in this blog but not to the exclusion of anything else. Impermance because I am coming to terms with the necessity of change in a life that has been searching for regularity. As a diabetic I have to establish patterns and habits that can replicate conditions and predict doses. This is fraught with peril. Firstly I am disinclined toward the highly regulated day. I like change. And now after years of attempting to maintain habits and regularity and set up patterns that support my main work, specifcally work in a collaborative performance group; my health in the face of living with diabetes and with insulin (four daily injections); earning some cash on the side (need money for supplies, don't I); and my identity; I have to change it all very seriously. The performance group will split up after our next performance and that's fine but now I find myself almost completely without portfolio (kind of forgot about that). So now I am sitting around imagining what comes next and finding ways to contemplate that. At the moment I may be stuck at "what is a wave?" but I am still hoping for clarity. I suppose I am also trying to find a way to value living in and for the moment since it appears that is what I have been doing for the past twenty years and I am wondering where it leaves me and with what.

Everything in this life is ephemeral. But within that I still need to understand my place and my importance and this feels slippery and inexplicable.

Oh, I just lost another white hair.

seaside

a wave
momentary
the waves
continuous

this 3-day flower

If you search for impermanent wave you find:

If "searching, seeking, attempting" is considered to arise, it is simply an impermanent wave arising from (and falling back into) the ocean of being

and also:

means for effecting impermanent wave-like longitudinal stiffening rib deflection of said sheets as the sheets enter said gap so that they will advance

as if it were possible

impermanent wave
fragile curl
frail, infinitesimal
this life is in this moment
and no more

when the light crosses the room
it is enough just to watch
as it travels
and not to hold it
to touch it
to make it stop and stay

as if it were possible

impermanent wave

this was here to see what it looked like and would later be replaced by something else

Something like this:

I’ve let go and I’m watching a oversized shoe filled with the helium of 9 performances as it struggles with a downdraft and then catches a breeze that takes it higher and higher and not so much like a Macy’s day parade balloon but more like a shoe, an upside down shoe that floats and bobs and delivers heaves and bursts of gas and wonders through the catalog and sags but then takes to the sky while I watch thinking of all the details that will fill it and now sail away as I watch.

Now listen to me, take my word for it: one day you’ll reach the middle of your life and wonder how it all went by so fast. And wonder why there isn’t more already.

There are wave clouds, the current above at a different speed with less resistance than the current below; ocean waves, I am told they are pulled by the moon; and there are waves formed in the snow as the freeze winds whip a moment into mass.

I am seeing the hand, it is raised on the end of an arm. My friend’s child says bye-bye and my friend says it means hello.

One day, you will realize that you’ve already arrived, in fact that you have been here all along.

Lakeside: my birthday

This is the crisp line of the finest blue just at the edge of the horizon. The shades of blue from shore to horizon were all pure blue in different shades and they popped forward from behind grey trees that also glowed in the twilight cloud cover. It was impossible to tell where the light came from. Each was somehow lit from within. Everything shone its own light and the sun paled behind the cloud blanket. There was no wind at all.